Perfectly Corrupted
by Cerabellum's Matrixx
Summary: Celia Bailey lives a life of total perfection, from her flawlessly tidy apartment, to her meticulously planned out days. When she's kidnapped by one of Gotham's notorious for information on her father's thriving company, her perfection streak comes to a deadly halt as she finds herself trapped in more-than-dangerous waters. Great White SharkxOC *Rating may change later*
1. A Day in the Life

**Author Note: Hello! You may notice that this story seems to be a duplicate. WELL, after being away from FF for years, I tried getting back into my old account, Cerabellum's Matrix, and couldn't remember the stupid email I used to use. I attempted to contact support on FF, but I haven't gotten any replies about what I should do to recover my account, and I really wanted to bring my stories back to life. Thank goodness for me having stored them on my old 12th grade History class flashdrive, lol. SO, I made the new account Cerabellum's Matrixx, and am currently revisiting old stories, fixing errors I come across and a few holes I left. All my stories will be re-uploaded in time, and hopefully my old readers are able to find them okay. Ugh. I feel so crappy about the whole situation, frfr. Thanks for your patience, errbody.**

… **...**

Celia Bailey lived a life of absolute perfection. In her extravagant apartment that her father paid for, everything was neat, and tidy. There was no dust in the surfaces, and nothing was out of place. The books on her shelves were catalogued, and the magazines were stacked by order of arrival date. Even the condiments within her refrigerator were assorted by size and popularity. Not a single stain blemished her white carpet. Everything was in order.

Perfect.

Her job hours at her father's successful company were the exact same every day; nine a.m. to four p.m., and she arrived back home at exactly six p.m. to prepare dinner for herself and her pet beta fish, Monty. After dinner, she would watch her favorite soap opera, All My Children, from eight p.m. until nine p.m., after which she would shower and go to bed, ready to begin her routine all over again the next day. This was her life of perfection, and she was perfectly content with it.

Then something happened that fucked it all up.

…

Celia woke up at six a.m. to the sound of her alarm clock. She groggily hit the 'off' button and sat up, her powder-white hair in a silky mess atop her head. After allowing herself to adjust her eyes, she slid out of her comfortable bed and padded to the bathroom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Her slightly tan skin that didn't quite go with her white hair was smooth and unscathed, save for some freckles that dusted the tops of her shoulders. Her large, golden brown eyes had no bags under them, and her full lips were shaped into a bow. A single beauty mark was located just under her left eye.

She looked down in the mirror at her chest. B-cups.

"Hmph. Not __everything__ can be great." She mumbled, and brushed her hair out. When brushed, the straight hair reached just below her ear, and curved inward at the ends. She didn't bother with using makeup; it took too much time to fuss with and required too much attention throughout the day. Chapstick was all that she kept in her purse, along with her phone and mini sketchpad.

She went to the kitchen and began to prepare herself an omelet, making sure to keep her area clean. When it was finished, she sat at the plain white table and ate while silently planning her routine day.

"Okay, let's get this over with." She said when she was done, and cleaned her mess up before she walked back to her room to her closet. From it, she picked out a simple white blouse and a black skirt. After changing, she walked into the living room and fed her black and blue beta fish. "There, Monty." She said lovingly. Fish. Cute enough to enjoy, and clean enough to keep. The perfect pet.

"I'll see you when I get back." She said, and headed for the door. She took her purse from the left prong behind the door and took her jacket from the right one. After grabbing her keys, she left for work.

…

"Hey, Celia. What's up?" one of Celia's colleagues, Matt, greeted her as she entered the elevator. She smiled kindly at the handsome man with wavy brown hair and tanned skin.

She despised him.

"Same old, same old, Matt. How are you?" she asked, then pushed the button to take her to floor twenty-six. Matt shrugged and flashed her a brilliant smile with shining white teeth. If she wasn't so short, she would like to reach up and knock them out of his head…

"I dunno. That depends." He said. Celia sighed, and gritted her teeth.

"That depends on __what__ , Matt?" she asked politely.

"That depends on whether or not you'll finally go on that date I've been asking about for the last two weeks." He said. Celia shivered inside. __Gross__. He may have been good looking, but he was a completely self-centered idiot who had to make sure his hair was 'okay' every five minutes. Plus she suspected he really only wanted to be with her to get close to her father, the owner and CEO of this company.

"I'm terribly sorry, Matt, but I'm just too __busy__ to be going out on dates." She lied. "I have so much take-home work to do every day, and all." Matt laughed.

"Haven't you figured out yet that you can just dump your work on one of the 'lower-level' employees? They'd do __anything f__ or __you__." He said. "I can share my guy. He does most of my work. A few more folders won't hurt him." Celia forced herself to keep from throwing up her omelet.

"Um, though that's a great offer, Matt, I must decline. I like working." She said. Matt's eyebrow rose in disbelief.

"You're a weird girl. Whatever, you'll see things my way soon enough. You got my number if you want to do anything __fun__." He said. The elevator door opened at floor twenty-four, and he stepped out. He waved to her as the doors closed again to take her upward.

"Creep." She muttered.

When she reached her floor, she made her way over to her large office that overlooked the Gotham Park. She set her keys down in the catch-all and started to work filing and double-checking the company's profit margin so she may check off the prices necessary for next quarter. After that, she makes it into a neat little presentation to show her father and his associates at the end of the month.

Yay, powerpoints…

After three hours of working through the sea of manila folders, she finally decided to take her lunch break, which lasted for about fifteen minutes and consisted of her eating a power-bar.

"Why does bait have to be so complicated?" she asked herself. She meant the subject that her father's company manufactured, which was fishing bait and tackle. The 'Fisherman's Friend' bait company was the leading industry when it came to bait, topping all the other companies easily. It manufactured everything from simple bobbers to the little slimy rubber fish that was drenched in gook that fish apparently loved.

The oddest thing about all that is her father didn't even __like__ fishing. He only did this for the money. He thought it was the perfect opportunity, and he took it. The company ran like a well oiled machine thanks for his ridiculously high standards.

"Always strive for perfection, accept nothing below par, and never let little issues keep you from reaching perfection." He would say repeatedly to her when she was a child.

"Perfection…" she muttered to herself as she stared out the large window, still chewing on a piece of the 'mega raspberry' power-bar.

"My dear! Hello!" the sudden booming voice of her father made her jump, and drop the other half of the bar to the floor. She hurriedly picked it up and threw it in the trash before turning to see Joseph Bailey, CEO, walk in. He was a large man, balding, with large glasses over his eyes, making them seem a little larger than they really were. He smiled at her, and she smiled back to him politely.

"Hello daddy, how are you?" she asked.

"'Daddy'? __Cute__." Someone else said from outside. Bailey 'herumphed' and scolded his daughter.

"Remember, Celia; refer to me as 'sir' in the workplace." He said. Celia bowed her head.

"Yes, my apologies, d-sir." She whispered.

"I have someone I would like you to meet." Bailey said. Celia looked up to see that a tall man walked in. He wore a black coat and white dress pants. He had broad shoulders, from what Celia could see, which wasn't much at all; his entire body was covered in clothing. His hands were gloved, and his face was wrapped in a type of white scarf. Dark glasses covered his eyes. No skin showed.

Celia caught herself staring, and quickly cast her eyes away. The man chuckled under his cover.

"I have a rather severe case of Photosensitivity; I'm allergic to the sun." he said. Celia looked back at him. His voice was very calm, almost dark. There was something else about it…

"Ah, yes! You must have found that strange, Celia. I apologize for not explaining right away!" Bailey said. Celia nodded.

"It's fine. Is there something you need?" she asked, suddenly very aware of all the light shining through her wall of a window.

"Oh, no! I'm just showing this gentleman around the building. He works for another company in Metropolis, and they are interested in partnering with us!" Bailey explained. Celia smiled.

Yay, more paperwork…

"That's wonderful." She said. Bailey nodded.

"Yes, this gentleman was sent to review our work place for the company. He's making sure that everything meets the other company's standards."

"So far, I am impressed." The man said quietly.

"Yes, of course!" Bailey said, and gestured to the room. "As I have always told my employees; Strive for perfection-"

"-Accept nothing below par, and never let little issues keep you from reaching perfection." Celia finished almost robotically. Bailey beamed at her, and the man simply looked at her.

"What do you do with things that aren't perfect, Miss Bailey?" he asked.

"I perfect them." She said. Bailey nodded encouragingly. The man still only looked.

"And if it cannot be perfected by any means?" he asked.

"I throw it away." She said. The man nodded slowly at this, and there was a moment of awkward silence. Bailey cleared his throat to end it.

"This office is where the money issues are taken care of! Miss Bailey, my daughter, serves as the primary worker that deals with it all." He said. The man looked at Bailey in surprise.

"Isn't there usually a team of at __least__ three to five?" he asked. Bailey nodded.

"Yes, but my dear girl has so much time on her dainty hands, she's able to get more work done in a week than an entire __team__ could in a __month__!" he said. Celia felt her cheeks become warm. Her father basically just said she had no life in front of some __guy__ …

The man looked over to Celia and seemed to smile under the scarf.

"Impressive." He said, then turned back to Bailey. "I trust you know the percentages this company brings in, sir? See, my company would like to know exactly how much of a profit they would make when partnering with you…" he said. Bailey chuckled.

"Sadly, I don't know the little things. Miss Bailey only gives me the important stuff at the end of the month. She's the one with all the details in all of these files you see." Bailey gestured to the room again. The man looked back at Celia. A shiver crept up her spine. Even though she couldn't see them, she felt his eyes bore right into her skull…

"I see…" he said in a hushed whisper. Celia had to change the subject.

"I'm sorry, what was your name, sir?" she asked quickly.

"Oh, my deepest apologies!" Bailey said loudly. "This gentleman's name is William…er, what was your last name, son?"

"My name is William Doe. A pleasure to meet you." William gave a small bow to Celia. She couldn't help but feel a shred of flattery.

"N-nice to meet you, too." She replied. She really wished she could see under that scarf.

"Well then! We ought to be going! Much more to see here!" Bailey said. "We'll be out of your hair now, dear! Goodbye!"

"Ciao." William said to her. Celia nodded.

"Yeah, bye." The two left, and closed the door behind them. Air rushed back into Celia's lungs, and she lay her head down on her desk. She took a few deep breaths before finally sitting back up and fixing her hair.

"That guy is so weird…"

…

"Hey, did you have the pleasure of meeting the over-clothed freak today?" Matt asked as the elevator slowly made its way down to the first floor. Their workday was over, and it was time to go home. Celia kept her eyes straight forward.

"Yes, and isn't that a little rude? He's Photosensitive."

"Photo-what?" Matt asked. Celia took a deep breath.

"It's an allergy to the sun."

"So, he's a __vampire__ …"

"No…"

"Great, now we have the undead roaming the floors. I see he's already gotten to __you__." Matt said. Celia looked up to him.

"I'm sorry?"

"He's gotten to you. You look dead tired. Told you, you should have dumped your work on someone else. Hey, you say you have all this work to take home, but you never have anything but your keys with you when you leave…." Matt said suspiciously. Celia held up her keys. A flashdrive hung from the loop.

"Flashdrive." She said. Matt huffed in defeat. She really didn't have any work on their; she wasn't even allowed to take the documents she worked with home. She was only thinking ahead. She knew he would become suspicious __sometime__.

The elevator opened, and the two walked out. Celia moved briskly towards the exit, Matt walking next to her. When she was out of the building, she walked toward her little yellow car. Matt stayed next to her. She became annoyed.

"Is there something you need, Matt?" she asked. He shrugged.

"Just walking you to your car. Don't know what kind of freaks could get you at this time of night."

"The sun is still up."

"Don't matter."

When they reached the car. Celia turned to him and told him goodbye.

"Hold on. Have you thought about it?" he asked. Celia sighed.

"Thought about what, Matt?"

"That date. You gonna say yes now?" he asked, swaggering his eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, Matt, but n-"

"Oh, c'mon, Celia. A good looking chick like you needs a good lookin' guy. It's the natural order of things." He said. Celia wanted to vomit horribly all over his suit.

"That's..."

"What?" Matt moved closer to her, a suggestive look on his handsome face. Celia backed up against her car.

"Matt, please…"

"C'moooon…"

"Miss Bailey!" Celia and Matt looked up to where the voice came from. It was William Doe, and he was walking over to them. A wave of relief washed over Celia.

'Thank God.'

"What do you need?" Matt said without a shred of politeness in his voice. William reached them and looked to Matt.

"I need to speak with Miss Bailey." He said quietly. Matt frowned.

"About __what__?" he asked. He sounded almost territorial.

"Company business, so if you could please excuse us. It's confidential." William replied smoothly. Matt gave him an annoyed look before leaving.

"See you, Celia. And remember what I said." He said, and walked off. Celia took a deep breath and turned to William.

"H-hello, Mr. Doe. What about the company?" she asked politely. William chuckled.

"I don't need to know anything for now; I just figured I would save you the trouble of enduring that pompous-ass for any longer." He said. Celia stared at him.

"You did that for me?" she asked. He rubbed the back of his covered neck almost sheepishly.

"Yeah, I figured you had someone at home waiting up for you, so I got rid of him. You're welcome." he said. Celia could have kissed this guy if his face wasn't covered.

"Thank you so much, but I live alone. You still did me a big favor, doing that. He is, as you said, quite pompous." She said. William's head was cocked to the side.

"You mean you don't have a boyfriend or anything? A dog, at least?" he asked. Celia laughed.

"No, no boyfriend and no dog. The only pet I have is Monty, and he's a fish." She said. William seemed to smile.

"Of course a bait and tackle company worker would have a pet fish. So, you prefer that animal?" he asked. Celia nodded.

"Yes, fish are so adorable to me."

"What's your favorite kind?" he asked. His tone of voice seemed to change, and Celia suddenly felt a bit uneasy.

"Well, um, it would have to be dolphins." She said. "Yes, they may be a mammal, but they're still a water creature. And they're __powerful__ , too. __Sharks__ are afraid of them." She said. She was babbling, and she caught herself and stopped. William seemed to go a bit rigid, and she feared she made him uncomfortable.

"Well, Miss Bailey. I'd hate to hold you up any longer. I may see you tomorrow. If not, then goodbye and good evening." He said, and turned to leave.

"Um, bye." Celia called weakly, and watched him go. Afterwards, she opened the car door and got inside. She griped the wheel tightly.

"That guy is so…." She stopped herself, and looked in the rearview mirror. She could still see him walking away, his back turned to her.

Celia Bailey couldn't describe this person.

 _ _Perfect__ ….


	2. Taken

__She stood in a black void, walking aimlessly.__

" _ _Mason!" her__ _ _voice was small, scared.__

 _ _She was fourteen, and she was lost.__

" _ _Mason! Where are you!"__

Celia woke up, tears on her face. Her eyes burned. She sat up and rubbed them, then looked around her bedroom. Everything was fine. Perfect. She sighed and looked at the alarm clock. The glowing red digits read; 2:36.

"Of course…." She lay back down and closed her eyes again.

Even her dreams woke her up at the same time, every night…

….

It was Friday. TGIF, Casual Dress, Pay-Day. People came to work happy, dressed in jeans and talking about who's buying the drinks tonight.

Celia didn't participate in any of that.

It didn't matter if it was Friday. She still had work to do. She came to work in dress clothes, as usual, and headed straight to her office, passing by all the doughnut boxes and gleeful chit-chatters.

'No rest for the wicked, my ass. At least they get __breaks.'__ she thought to herself as she entered her office. She closed the door with a 'snap' behind her and got to work, as always.

Some minutes later, she heard a light rap on the door.

"Come in…" she said, still engrossed in her calculations. The door opened, and she looked up, half-expecting someone with another folder for her to review.

Instead it was William, dressed as he was yesterday; completely covered up. Celia sputtered.

"Uh-wha-Hello! Can I help you, Mr. Doe?" she asked. He nodded.

"Yes, your father said you would have something for me to look over in terms of this company's percentage of profit. If you would be so kind, I would like to see it." He said. He sounded a little more alive today. Less quiet. Celia took this as a sign of him losing his shyness around the place, and she smiled.

"Yes, of course. Just one second." She said, and walked over to a stack of manila folders. She grabbed the entire stack and took it over to William. He seemed surprised.

"My, aren't you thorough." He said, and took the stack. Celia chuckled.

"Yeah, that isn't even half of it. Most of it is stored in my brain. I only print out the stuff my father wants to see."

"So this," William said, gesturing to the large stack in his arms. "Isn't all of it? That's a lot of numbers."

"You're telling __me__. That in your arms is just the end result. All the 'how it got there' is in my head and on the master computer's hard drive." She said, then stopped herself. Why did she just say that?

"Should I pretend I didn't hear that?" he asked in amusement. Celia smiled sheepishly.

"That would be appreciated." She said.

"Hey, this may sound weird, but would you like to go out for something to eat during your break? I swear I'm not hitting on you, It's just I'm leaving at four for Metropolis and I want to make sure I have everything straight with this." He said. Celia considered this for a moment. She didn't really want to, since there was so much work to do. But she didn't want to be rude. She wanted to see his face, so she could get even the smallest hint of a lie from it. She sighed inside, and nodded.

"Sure, why not? You seem harmless. And if you try anything I can just take off your scarf. Simple." She said. She then looked at how much taller he was than she.

'Two feet at least…Damn my shortness…' she thought. William seem amused.

"You have an odd sense of humor, Miss Bailey. When is your lunch?" he asked.

"It's at noon." She said, and opened the door for him. "I'll see you then."

"Of course." He replied, and left. Celia closed the door and stood there for a moment. For the first time in six years she wouldn't go with the routine.

"Hmm." She said to herself, then sat back down at her desk and returned to work.

…

William chose a small place near Celia's work to eat at called 'Salad Garden'. They sat outside, per his request, and he ended up not ordering anything. Celia ordered a light salad with lemonade.

"Don't you want to eat?" she asked him. He shook his head.

"I already ate. I'm not a salad person, anyway." He said. Celia blinked.

"Then why did you take us out to lunch for the work-talk? We could have done it in my office." She said.

"I really didn't want to spend another minute in that place, and you seemed like you felt the same way, so I just figured I'd take us out." He said, and shrugged. Celia nodded.

"Well, thanks for that. You're right; it can get a bit stuffy in there, even in a big office." She said. She took a sip of her lemonade. "But aren't you hot in those layers of clothing?" she asked. William began to drum his fingers on the table.

"No, not really." Was his answer. Celia's brow furrowed. She didn't get this guy in the slightest. It was nearly eighty-six degrees right now, and the pavement all around them only made it seem hotter…

"Well then," she said, deciding not to hang on the subject. "You said you wanted to make sure you had everything right before you left. Why don't you tell me what you learned, and I'll fill in any necessary details and correct any mistakes." She said in her professional tone. William nodded and relayed to her what he took from the many files.

"So, is that it? Or is there more?" he asked when he finished. Celia stared at him. In just a few hours he was able to memorize all that correctly. She cleared her throat and took a sip of her nearly drained lemonade.

"Erm, I think you got it all. Goodness, you're thorough as well, I see." She said, impressed.

"I try." William's voice sounded like he was smiling. "But, I find it hard to really believe that's it. So there is seriously more?" he asked. Celia nodded.

"But all of that is confidential, and I'm not allowed to share that information without an officer present to watch over." She said.

"And only you know all this stuff? That must be a load on your mind…" William said. "Doesn't your father help you out?" he asked. Celia scoffed.

"Even if he tried to help, I would end up kicking him out anyway; he's forgetful. Besides, he only likes the end result, and seeing those perfect percentages in my end-of-month presentation to the board. He doesn't really care for how the money got there in the first place." She said. William was nodding slowly along as she spoke.

"I see. You've left me incredibly curious, I'm afraid. Could you give me just a __hint__ of what's sitting in your mind? I won't tell, I swear." He said, and held his hand up, palm forward. "Cub Scout's honor." Celia laughed, and nodded. He seemed trustworthy.

"Alright, I can't give the details, but, just imagine a large net, or web, where each of the intersections is one place where either our products are sold or where the money for that product is transferred. And, like a web, it all eventually leads to a center point, which I can't tell you about." She said.

"I would think the money would go to the work building, or a bank near it." William said. Celia shook her head.

"Nope. You wouldn't believe where it all goes. And I won't tell you." She said.

"Alright, I'm content with what you gave me. Is it a large net?" he asked. Celia nodded.

"Imagine a net around the world." She said, and drew an invisible circle in the air with her finger.

"Excuse my language, but __damn__. That's a lot of information on your brain. You're like a human hard drive." He said. Celia nodded and took a bite from her salad.

"The perfect worker." She said.

"Your father seems obsessed with perfection." William said. Celia smirked.

"Yeah, you sensed that, too?"

"So do you." William's last words made Celia go still.

"Do I?" was all she managed. William nodded, then pointed to her silverware, which was arranged in a row.

"Yes. When we got here, you took your silverware from the napkin and placed it in a row. Now it looks perfect…" Celia looked down at the shining silver. Did she really do that? She didn't remember. It was so routine, that she didn't even think about it anymore.

"Yes, it seems so…" she muttered. William leaned forward and propped himself on his elbows.

"What is your definition of 'perfect', Miss Bailey?" he asked. "What is 'perfection' to you?"

Celia's mind was running laps. This was supposed to be a business-based lunch, and here this guy was, asking personal questions.

'Whatever, I'll answer. It's simple enough.' She thought to herself. Of course it was simple.

Wasn't it?

An answer formed in her mind, and old answer she used to use. But she knew it was wrong, according to her father. He corrected her, and now she had the right answer. She thought she had the right answer. She knew-no. __Yes__ , she knew. She was sure of it. Her father said it was, so...

"Something without any faults, of course." She said finally. She was confident with her answer.

"Saying that is telling me that nothing is perfect in any sense, Miss Bailey." William said. His voice almost made her jump; he sounded so serious. He went on. "Of course, that's true to most people, the notion that nothing is perfect. I mean, that fork you're holding-one of the prongs is slightly bent. This table's legs are uneven, and needs some coasters placed under it to keep it from wobbling. Our government is corrupt, and school teachers don't know everything they claim to. Our entire world is built on in-perfection. Your world-wide net will find a fault in its system soon enough; perfection doesn't last." Celia caught herself staring, then looked down, her face flushed.

"Well, I hardly think that our company could have any faults. And even if we find one, we would perfect it-"

"Even __you're__ _I_ mperfect," William interrupted. "You take the words from your father, instead of using your own voice. Do you seriously believe what you have been taught to say, sometimes? You probably haven't even thought about that. You're a doll. A very smart puppet." Celia was frozen. William leaned in closer. "Is there a single original thought in your head? Or is it all robotics? Routine? Do you have a life outside your father's work?"

"I-I…" Celia tried to speak, but nothing came out. William seemed to smirk under his scarf.

"Maybe you __are__ perfect. Like you said; the perfect worker. Congratulations." He said. Celia took a deep breath and placed her fork down on the table. Her mind was racing. This guy…he was so kind before. Now, he was just…

"I'm sorry, I need to go. My break is almost over and I have a lot of work to do." She said, and pulled a ten dollar bill from her pocket and dropped it on the table. After hearing what he said, she felt a little pathetic saying what she just did. She stood and left, not bothering to look back at him. She forced her mind on her work, to help get him out of her head.

'All that paperwork…'

….

He watched her leave, very content with his actions. When she disappeared, he looked over to the ten dollar bill resting on the table. He picked it up and looked at it.

"Oh, Miss Bailey. This isn't even a scratch of what you'll be making me in the very near future…." He muttered, and placed the bill in his jacket pocket.

After that, he stood and left without paying.

…

 _ _She was at the national competition, and she was the next contestant. Her coach had given her the pep-talk, and her teammates had given her their best wishes.__

 _ _She stepped out onto the thin board that was propped exactly three feet in the air. She took a deep breath, raised her arms above her head…__

Celia woke up with a jolt. She was sitting on her white couch, the television displaying a commercial for cleaner. She looked up at the clock. It was nine-fifteen p.m.

"Are you serious, Monty?" she asked. "I just slept through 'All My Children'…" Less than happy, Celia grudgingly stood up from the couch and stretched before walking to the bathroom to shower.

Ten minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom in her favorite white silk nightgown and a white robe. Pink slippers donned her feet and she walked out to the kitchen to get one last drink before finally retiring for the night. As she filled her glass, Celia noticed something off about the counter space.

There was a speck of dirt.

Celia turned off the water and set the glass down quietly. That dirt sure as hell wasn't there when she made dinner. And she cleaned all the surfaces when she was finished, so this dirt was definitely out of place.

What the hell?

Celia narrowed her eyes at it, mentally interrogating it.

'Who sent you….' She thought suspiciously. It didn't reply. Of course it wouldn't. It's __dirt__. It couldn't have placed itself there by any means, so someone else put it there.

Celia was now very aware of her surroundings. Was someone in the room? Forcing herself to keep calm, she casually took one of the frying pans from the hook in front of her.

Then she swung it with all her might.

Even though she was suspicious of someone being in her apartment, she was still horribly surprised that the pan actually collided with something.

And that something yelled a very loud "Ow!"

She looked up to see that she had smashed a really buff guy with a hockey mask right in the face. He stumbled back, gripping his face with his hands.

"Fffucking HELL! Damned bitch got me!" He yelled. Celia was panicking.

'Omigod there's someone in my apartment. Omigod, omigod, __omigoooood__.' She thought. She kept the pan gripped tightly in her hands, and she raised it a little, just in case.

"I told you bringing a spare guy would be good, Don…" a gruff voice said from outside the kitchen. Another intruder walked in, shaking his masked head at his partner. "The boss ain't gonna like the fact that you got beaten by a chick."

" _ _Fuck__! __That__! Just get the bitch already!" said Don. Blood ran from his exposed nose. The other thug tsked and looked to Celia. He began walking to her, and he pulled a gun from the front of his pants. Celia began to shake terribly.

"Listen, lady. We got specific orders not to hurt you too bad, alright? But If you try anything, we got permission to bruise you up, so think rationally." He said, then pointed to the frying pan. "I have to ask you to drop your, uh, _weapon_ , or I'll use mine, got me?" Celia looked from him to his gun, and swallowed hard.

She lowered the pan.

"Very good." The intruder said slowly. His partner was still cursing behind him. The intruder then walked right up to Celia and took the pan from her trembling hands. She looked up at him.

"What do you want?" she asked. He shrugged as he set the pan down on the counter.

"I dunno. I just do the little work. The boss wants to speak with ya." He said. Celia nodded.

Then kicked him in the groin.

He collapsed, cursing loudly. Celia ran for it. Don grabbed her robe, but she slipped out of it and ran towards the door. She reached it. Hope filled her mind as she grabbed the handle. It was gone as soon as it came, however, as something grabbed her hair and threw her backwards. She fell to the floor and hit her head hard. The intruder she kicked between the legs stood above her, a little hunched over from the pain.

"I told you not to try anything, lady…" he said through clenched teeth. He leaned over to pick her up, but she shot her fist out and punched him in the jaw. He staggered, but righted himself. Celia figured her hand hurt more than his jaw did as he grabbed her shoulder and forced her to sit upright. "Sorry I gotta do this, but I warned you." He said.

She felt something hard hit the back of her head, then she plummeted into darkness.

….

"Dammit, the boss ain't gonna be happy, guys." Celia heard a new voice say as she drifted back into consciousness. She was being carried by someone bridal style. The area they were in was cool, and she could hear water. She kept her eyes closed in an attempt to make it seem like she was asleep. If they knew she was awake, they might raise their guard. She wanted a chance to get out, so she would wait for the perfect opportunity.

'Perfect.' The word pierced her mind, and she remembered what William had said to her. She mentally shook herself of the thought. This was not the time for that.

"This bitch hit me with a fucking pan, so don't go tryin' to put me on a fucking guilt trip!" the one she remembered to be Don said.

"Yeah, but she's bleeding." Said the new voice. Celia almost opened her eyes to see where she was bleeding from.

"My nose is __broken__ , dammit!" said Don.

"The bleeding is my fault; I hit her a bit too hard with the pistol." Said the one carrying her.

"Dammit, Jared." Said the other voice.

"I'm used to knocking out __big guys__ , alright? I've never kidnapped a _Barbie doll_ before…" he shook Celia just a bit to prove his point. "She's like eight pounds soaking wet..."

"We could just hide it, right?" Don asked.

"Her hair is __white__. There's no __hiding__ it. Think, man." Jared said.

"Sorry, but my brains are kinda __scrambled__ from her __smackin'__ me.." Don muttered angrily.

"You're really milkin' that, aren't ya?"

" _ _Shut up__ , Marc."

"She's __awake__ , you know…" said a new voice. It was authoritative. The thugs all went silent. She heard footsteps. "If you don't believe me, just drop her." He said.

Celia shot her eyes open to see Jared looking down at her. His mask was gone, showing a buzz-cut hairdo and a scar just above his right eye. She gulped.

"I'm going to set you down now, lady." He said, and eased her down. Celia stood up straight, then collapsed. Jared grabbed her shoulders before she hit the floor, and he held her up. There was a ringing in her ears, and she felt weak. She kept her eyes downcast, and noticed a pool to the right. "Um.." Jared began, but someone cut him off.

"She'll be fine. Good work, boys." Said the new voice.

"Thanks, boss." Jared said. Celia blinked and looked up.

She tried to scream, but her voice caught in her throat.

Their 'boss' was as white as paper, and was missing his lips and nose. His ears were just small holes on the sides of his head. His mouth was a large, deadly grin of pointed teeth that were just as white as his skin. His eyes were brown, and they we currently narrowed into slits as he glared at Celia. She shook terribly.

He looked just like a shark.

He walked towards her. He wore a black suit and dress shoes. A Rolex watch was located on his left wrist. It glittered with diamonds.

"I still can't believe she beat you two up before you finally knocked her out…" he said. He took a handkerchief from his sleeve and held it over his mouth to keep himself from drooling; it was difficult not to do so when you had no lips to stop it. "She's nothing more than a weak little seal…"

Celia saw him hold his free hand up, as a gesture to shake hers. She only stared at it. He shook his head and dropped his hand.

"Just give her a frying pan, boss. Apparently she goes beast-mode with those things." Marc said, and pointed to Don, who Celia noticed had a bandage over his nose. One of his eyes were black and swollen, and….was he missing a tooth?

"That's not fuckin' funny! I should kill that bitch for ruining my face!" Don shouted. Marc grinned.

"Nah, I like you like this. It's an improvement."

"Fuck you, man!"

"Don," the boss said. "Shut the hell up." Don huffed, but nodded.

"Yes, Shark." He said. Celia's eyes widened.

'Shark? That's what he's called?' she thought. The boss looked to her again.

"Do you know who I am, Miss Bailey?" he asked. Celia shook her head vigorously. He sighed. "Of course not; you have no life outside the workplace." He said, then cleared his throat. "How about now?" he asked in an altered voice. It sounded familiar. Celia's eyes widened when realization dawned on her. She felt her heart drop into her stomach.

"William...Doe?" she asked in a squeak. He nodded, and his toothy mouth seemed to shift upwards at the corners into a smile. He snapped his fingers once in approval.

"Bingo, exactly! But that was just a disguise for infiltration purposes. I'm better known by all of Gotham as Warren White, or the Great White Shark. Now, you know who _that is_ , correct?" he asked. Celia felt like her eyes would pop out of her skull. She nodded. She knew who this guy was now. She'd read about him in the papers. He was a con-man who also happened to be an Arkham patient. She knew through papers and rumors that anybody who got in his way was quickly dealt with, with a bullet...

'Or with his deadly jaws...' she thought, her eyes darting back to his teeth.

"Y-yes…" she mumbled. "I know…"

"Good! Then you know I mean business. I have some numbers and information I need extracted from your pretty little head, and the only way I'll get that is if you tell me about it, which you will of course do, should you value your freedom and your life." He said, his voice filling the large room. Celia looked around. She saw the pool, which was in the center of the space. At the far back was a wall of a window overlooking the city. In front of it was a large desk. It was an office.

"Where am I?" she asked. White shook his head.

"I'll not say." He said. Celia should have expected that. She was out of her element. Away from the safety of her apartment, which turned out to not be very safe anyway. She bit her lip as a crazy thought popped into her head.

'Who's going to feed Monty…'

"Now that this bitch is awake, let's make her useful…" Don said suggestively from behind White. Celia looked at him , and he looked right back, smiling like he was going to do something. She tried to step back, but Jared held her firm. White looked to the thug and cocked his head.

"And what are you suggesting, exactly?" he asked. Don's smile widened.

" _ _Y'know__ , boss. I was just thinkin' that when you're done with her, we could have a little fun with her. Or we could have fun now. Might get her to talk faster…" he said as he looked over Celia. She knew what he was talking about, and she felt over-exposed in her silk nightgown. A tear ran down her cheek as she suddenly feared the worst from these men.

White looked over to her and saw the tears welling in her frightened eyes. He shook his head and tsked, rubbing a hand over his bald head. "Don, you've made her cry." He said sadly. He pulled a gun from inside his jacket and pointed it at Don, who froze.

"B-boss, what-" he began, but White cocking the gun made him go silent.

"I don't work like that, Don. You're too much of a risk for my subject, and I'm afraid I'll have to let you go…" White said in a professional manner. Celia thought he actually sounded apologetic. White aimed, and Celia wanted to shut her eyes, but something in her mind forced them to remain open. Don held his hands up.

"Wait, boss! N-"

 _ _BLAM! BLAM!__

Two quick shots from the silencer, and Don fell to the floor, two holes in his forehead. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth stupidly. Blood pooled around his body and filled the cracks between the tiles.

Celia suddenly snapped out of her fuzzed delusion and screamed. She wrenched herself free from Jared's grip and backed away from them. They all looked at her like nothing just happened. They were calm. Celia shook her head and kept backing away, hugging herself tightly. Jared suddenly stepped forward.

"Watch out-"

" _ _Stay away from me__!" she screamed, interrupting him. She didn't notice the pool right behind her, and she tripped on the ledge.

She fell in.

When she hit the water, she sank like a stone to the bottom. She tried to stand and reach the surface, but the water was too deep, and she couldn't swim.

'Oh, god. I'm going to die here…' she thought to herself as she covered her mouth and nose. She was becoming dizzy again, and she saw a small cloud of faded blood loom over her as it mixed from her hair into the water that stung her eyes.

She heard a muffled splash and turned around. She screamed again, but the water muted her cry.

It was a shark.


	3. Welcome to Hell

Celia slammed her eyes shut and braced herself in wait for her horrible end as the shark swam quickly towards her. She flinched when it wrapped an arm around her and held her against its chest.

Wait…

'Sharks don't have arms…and they don't have chests…' she thought. She hesitantly touched the mysterious creature with her hand. She exhaled the remainder of air she had in shock.

'Sharks __definitely__ don't have abs…'

Before Celia could organize her thoughts, she was brought up to the surface, where she gratefully sucked in oxygen. It hurt her lungs, but she didn't care. She wiped her stinging eyes and opened them to see what exactly was holding her.

It was White, and he seemed agitated as he swam them both to the steps that led from the water. Celia wanted to kick away from him, but she knew if she did that, she would sink again, and this time he might not help her. So she let him rescue her, her eyes warily remaining on his threatenng features.

When they reached the steps he released her, and she climbed them upward and collapsed on the cold floor, shaking and coughing. White stepped next to her and glared as he wiped the water from his face.

"Please keep from jumping in the pool unless you want to be fish feed…" he said tiredly. Celia looked up at him, and froze. He was only wearing boxers. She looked from his muscled body to where Jared and Marc stood. They were carrying his clothes. He noticed her confusion. "I'm not ruining an Armani suit just to save your stupid ass." He explained. Celia shot him a hateful look. He took his sweet time saving her, just to keep his suit nice…

"What did you mean by __fish feed__?" she asked, her teeth chattering. It was so much colder now that she was soaked. White walked over to a closet and opened it. As he looked inside, he jutted his thumb in the direction of the pool.

"Look a little closer, Miss Bailey." He said, and pulled out two black-and-white striped towels. Celia did as he said, and looked over. Her voice caught in her throat.

There really was a shark in there, nearly six feet in length, and it was swimming in circles where she had fallen in. It was a young great white.

Celia's eyes were wide, and she barely noticed White dropping one of the towels on her shoulder. She gripped it.

"I was almost eaten alive…" she muttered in horror. White nodded.

"And then I would have had to clean the pool and get a new hostage. That would have been an inconvenience for me seeing as how valuable you are. You should be more considerate." He said. Celia had half a mind to push him back in. "You could try," he said, as if he read her mind, "But you would fail, just saying."

"Trying never hurt anybody." She said bitterly. He seemed to smile again.

"It will in your case. I don't need your _arms_ , Miss Bailey, just your _brain_ …" he said as he dried himself off. He then threw the towel over his shoulder and walked off. Before he exited the room, he looked over to Jared. "Get Miss Bailey to her quarters, and you," he then looked to Marc, "Get someone to clean that mess up before it drips into the pool." He said, pointing to Don's lifeless body. The thugs nodded.

"Yes, boss." They said in unison.

"And for the love of God, don't fuck with the lady. Your dead buddy is a sad example of the consequences." He said, and left the room.

"Yes, boss." The thugs said, even though he was gone. Marc took out a cellphone and dialed a number. Jared walked over to Celia. She flinched away when he held his hand out to help her up from the floor.

"Don't worry none, lady. I ain't gonna hurt ya. I'd rather live through the night, ya know?" he said, and smiled. She only looked at him.

"How can you j-joke about that? And how can you be so calm when he just shot your friend? He's __dead__!" she said in disbelief. Jared nodded.

"It's how things run in the crime business, lady. It's just how we run things here." He said. Celia couldn't believe his words. __Just how we run things?__ These guys were insane. She stood up shakily , still gripping the towel that was wrapped around her.

"Your boss has a pet shark…" she mumbled. Jared smiled again.

"Yeah, it really brings out his persona, doesn't it?" he said. Celia huffed, and said nothing more. Jared lead her out of the large office to a lounge area. It was well furnished, with black couches in the center around a glass table. A small bar area was located towards the back where a large rack of different alcoholic beverages was stacked. There was a doorway at the far side of the room that led to a kitchen/dining area. A seventy inch flat screen television was located in the center of the right wall, and a large window allowed view of the city. A set of carpeted stairs to Celia's left led to another floor above her.

"Huh…" Celia managed. She must have been in a pent house or something.

"Your room is this way." Jared said, and walked up the stairs. Before Celia followed, she noticed the entrance door. She wanted to run, but she didn't.

'I'll wait…' she said, looking back to Jared, who was nearly to the top. She climbed slowly up the stairs to the next floor. Another lounge area, much smaller than the one downstairs, was located here. The same type of décor was used, but there wasn't a bar or kitchen area. A glass door led to a small balcony on the outside. Celia had the craziest idea to jump from it and end her suffering with one quick 'splat'…

"Your room is over there." Jared said, pointing to a white door on the wall to their right. Celia nodded, and walked over to it. As she walked, she noticed yet another set of stairs, metal ones, leading to yet another floor above this one. She turned back to Jared questioningly.

"What do those lead to?" she asked quietly.

"The boss' room. I never been up there, so I can't give details. It's off limits, not that you would want to go up there anyway, I recon." He said, and began to descend the stairs again. "Kitchen's open if you wanna eat." He said, and he was gone. Celia frowned and opened the door to her room

The room was spacious, but nearly empty. All there really __was__ in it was a bed with black covers, a dresser, and a work desk. A closet was located on the left wall, and a door to a bathroom was located on the right. A large window was covered at the far wall with black drapes. A nightstand was next to her bed, and had a phone and an alarm clock.

Celia's eyes widened. A phone. She ran over to it and ripped it off its rest and put it to her ear. She immediately dialed the numbers 9-1-1, and listened to it ring, wanting to scream for someone to pick it up.

She heard someone answer, and she nearly sobbed with relief.

"Hello?" she asked.

"You insult my intelligence, Miss Bailey…" an annoyed voice answered. Celia froze. It was White.

"What-"

"This is the only phone you have access to, and every number you dial will immediately be sent to me instead. Understand?" he said. Celia crumpled to the floor, the phone still to her ear.

"Why…" she asked. She felt tears sting her eyes.

"Simply because I may need to call you to my office at any time, and I suspect you'll be spending most of your stay there in your room. And, you may need to get ahold of me, if you need to tell me something, just in case. You won't be able to call anyone else from that, I'm afraid." He said. Celia rested her head against the nightstand.

"You knew what I would do when I saw the phone…you knew I would raise my hopes…damn you…damn you…" she slammed the phone back onto its rest. "Dammit…" She fought to keep the tears that formed from spilling from her eyes, and took several deep breaths to calm herself. Once she she was relatively calm, she stood back up and walked to the closet. Inside was an assortment of different blouses and dress skirts and pants, all black or white colored.

'At least they aren't crappy…' she thought bitterly as she closed the closet door. She walked to the dresser and opened each drawer. They held either undergarments or sleepwear. Nodding, she took from the drawers a change of clothes; undergarments and long sleeved, black silk pajama shirt with matching pants. After that, she took them to the bathroom, which had a marble floor and counters. There was a stand-in shower, and a large, round tub. A toilet was located next to the counter.

Celia walked over to the tub and looked in warily.

Nope, no sharks.

Sighing, she undressed herself and got into the shower. The warmth was welcomed at first, but Celia winced when the steaming water hit the back of her head. She felt where she had been hit by Jared. A small bump, and a scratch.

'Great…' she thought, and turned the water's temperature down a bit. Luke-warm was going to have to be the way to go tonight.

"At least all that salt water is out of my hair now…" she said after she finally exited. After dressing herself, she went to the mirror and wiped away the fog. She turned her head so she could see if any red was present in her white hair. Sometimes she hated her hair color just because of stuff like this. Everything that got in it stuck out like a sore thumb. When she found nothing wrong, she got to work on drying it.

Minutes later, she was back in her room, completely dry, and lying on the bed, which was surprisingly poofy. "What does this guy want from me…" she asked the space around her. Nothing answered. She snorted. "Why would it? It's all furniture…" she said, and closed her eyes.

The phone rang.

Celia's eyes snapped open and she looked at the phone. It continued to ring. She hooded her eyes and looked back to the ceiling.

"I'm not answering you…" she said with a sniff. The ringing stopped after a moment, leaving the room once again silent. "Good…" she said, and closed her eyes again.

The phone rang again.

"Dammit!" Celia sat up and grabbed the phone from its rest. She held it to her ear. "What, Will-Warren-White-whatever you call yourself!"

"You seem to be in a good mood." Was White's answer. Celia's eye twitched.

"You aren't a good comedian, just saying." She said. White gave a small chuckle.

"Anyway, I know it's late, but you're needed in my office. I need to ask you some basic questions regarding your social security and bank numbers." He said. Celia scoffed at the request.

"You seriously believe I'll just waltz in that death room and tell you everything?" she asked, and stood from the bed to walk to the door, the phone still to her ear. She turned the lock, then went back to the bed. "Because I'm not going to." She said.

"Try not to be too _unreasonable_ , Miss Bailey. I've been _very_ patient with you-"

"And I've been kidnapped by a madman __from _ _Arkham__! I'm not leaving this room!" she yelled, and hung up. She dropped the phone to the floor and sat down roughly on the bed, furious.

The phone rang a third time. Celia wanted to rip out her hair. She snatched it from the floor and answered.

" _ _What__?"

"Let's try this again," White said, his voice almost cheery. "Either you come to my office in the next five minutes, or I send Marc to your room to break some bones." He hung up, leaving Celia dumbfounded. She dropped the phone to her lap, and thought about what he just said.

After a moment of consideration, she stood and walked to her dresser.

Then she began to push it towards the door.

After a lot of pushing and swearing, the dresser was set, barricading Celia.

"I called your bluff," she huffed, "But this is just to be sure…"she walked over to her bed and slumped onto it. She buried her face in her pillow and sighed.

Just when she was nearly asleep, someone knocked roughly on the door. Celia tensed.

"Hey, lady! Boss sent me to getcha." Marc said. Celia sat up and stared at the door.

"I'm not going." She said.

"But boss says he needs ya-"

"Well ' _ _boss' c__ _ould very well be waiting to kill me!_ _ _I'm not going!__ " she said. Silence, then the jiggling of the doorknob.

"Aw, jeez, lady. Can't ya just come with me to the damned office? Nothin's gonna happen." Marc said when it wouldn't open. Celia shook her head furiously.

" _ _No__."

"Why not?"

"Put yourself in my shoes and ask that question again!" she snapped.

"'Kay, no need to get __crazy__ on me, I'm just doing what I'm told ta do-"

"And I'm __not__! __So go away__!" Celia yelled, and lay back down on her side, still watching the door. She heard keys jingle from the other side, and heard the lock click. She frowned.

'No matter,' she thought. 'The dresser will keep him out. He won't be able to push the door open…'

Just then the door opened and Marc stepped into the doorway. Celia gawked as he looked down at the dresser in front of him.

"Uh, lady," he said in slight amusement. "I think this only works if the door opens the other way…" Celia's eyes narrowed.

"So I've noticed…"

"Look, lady, I'm not gonna climb over this thing to get you, mainly 'cuz you're a scary broad. But, I gotta tell ya, Shark'll get pretty pissed if I go back without ya. He won't be __happy__ , is what I'm sayin'."

"So?" Celia said, and turned her back to him. "I won't allow myself to be pushed around by some brute with a shark fetish. Close the door on the way out, if you please."

"Alright, alright. I warned you, though." Marc said, and turned to leave. As he closed the door, Celia heard him say, "This chick is __nuts__." She smirked, mentally high-fiving herself for her unexpected courage.

She took the phone and placed it on its rest, then straightened it out. After that she straightened out the alarm clock. Perfect. She then got up and picked up her dirty clothes from the floor, and placed it in the small hamper in her closet. She looked over the rest of the room. It was all in order, except for the dresser, but she would move that later after she got some sleep.

She looked at the alarm clock; three-thirty. Normally, she would be sleeping, and since it was Saturday, she would wake up at nine and do her usual grocery shopping and clean her laundry. After that, she would read, most of her reading material being non-fiction; she had no time for silly fantasy or sci-fi. Her father always said it was healthy to read as much educational material as possible and build on vocabulary and knowledge, but Celia never once saw him read in her life. Perhaps he read alone, like she did, or perhaps he was a hypocrite…

'Or maybe he was just building me to be the perfect worker…' she thought numbly. She looked around for a book shelf, or a __book__. None were there, and she didn't recall seeing a bookshelf in the lounge. Of course, she wasn't exactly looking for one when she was in there, so she may have missed it.

Shaking her head and wondering what she would use for reading material in the afternoon, Celia walked over to the bed and lay down. She stared at the white ceiling until her eyes became heavy. Slowly they began to close…

A loud bang on the door made her jump. She looked angrily to it, thinking Marc had returned.

"Go. __Away__!" she yelled. The door swung open.

Warren White stood there, and he looked scarily calm. Celia only glared at him, and didn't move from her spot. White kicked the dresser had and it tipped over, hitting the floor with a loud 'thud.' Celia sat up as he casually stepped over the fallen furniture and headed towards her. A flash of fear ran through her heart as he reached out. He grabbed her shirt collar and pulled her off the bed. She gasped as he hoisted her up and pulled her by her wrist to the door. She tried to get free, but is grip was like iron, and he pulled her struggling body along like she was nothing but a simple doll.

They walked through the small lounge to the stairs and descended. Because of how quickly he walked, Celia almost tripped every few steps. When they reached the door to his office, he opened it and threw her inside. She stumbled, and he slammed the door behind him. He walked over and grabbed her collar again, then dragged her to the pool, where he forced her to look into it where the shark swam dangerously close.

"Did you know..." he began quietly, "that a great white shark bites with a force that is equivalent to twenty thousand pounds of pressure per square inch?" Celia kept her eyes on the shark, afraid that White would push her in. He leaned in closely to her, and she shivered as his breath hit her neck. "Let me tell you something, Miss Bailey; this shark isn't used for only __show__ …"

White let her go, and she backed quickly away from the pool. He walked over to his desk and sat down, then pulled a handkerchief from his sleeve and placed it over his pointed teeth.

"This isn't a game, Celia Bailey, and I don't like that you're treating the situation you're in like one. I'm a dangerous man, and you are acting like a fool, something of which I have __very__ little patience for."

"And I have very little patience for jerks like you-"

"Oh, shut the hell up, woman." White said dismissively, making Celia's face turn red.

" _Excuse m_ -"

"If you had little patience for __jerks__ , then you wouldn't allow people like that Matt fellow anywhere near you. You wouldn't allow people like your father to use you as he does, and you __certainly__ would have fought a little harder while I was dragging your dumbass down here…" White said. He looked at her, practically daring her to argue. Celia kept quiet, but glowered at him from her spot.

"Now, from now on you will do as I say, and I will no longer be so lenient should you do otherwise. Life here can be _really_ simple, Miss Bailey, or it can be __incredibly__ painful. I don't give a damn either way, _so_ it's just up to you whether or not you want to leave here, ah, __incomplete__." He said, his brown eyes seeming to darken as he looked back over to the pool. Celia glanced at the shark, then back to White. She saw very little difference between them, just that White had a suit on…

"Yeah…whatever…" she said, noting the seriousness in his voice. He wasn't bluffing. He meant it. White nodded and picked up a paper from his desk to read over.

"Like I said; do as I say and life can be simple here. If you can't live with that, then all I can simply say is __welcome to hell__."

Celia clenched her jaw.

"Yeah…whatever…" she said again. White looked over to her as she glared at him from the floor. He sighed, and looked back to the paper in his hand.

"You aren't in the right mind to talk business, so I'll let you to go to your room for the night. We'll discuss this tomorrow afternoon." He said. Celia blinked.

"You dragged me down here for nothing then…" she said bitterly. He shrugged.

"That's your fault. I needed to prove a point, and I've done that. Good night, Miss Bailey." He said, then fell silent as he began to read. Celia stood up and walked briskly back to her room. She slammed the door behind her and nearly tripped on the fallen dresser as she made her way to her bed. She lay down, and screamed with fury into her pillow until her voice became hoarse.

Minutes later she fell asleep angry, remembering what White had said.

'Welcome to hell.' She thought as she drifted off. 'Yeah…whatever…'


End file.
